


the years are passing

by Morning66



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morning66/pseuds/Morning66
Summary: From her perch at the front of the salon, Harumi Ichikawa watches Akira grow up.
Relationships: Shindou Hikaru/Touya Akira
Comments: 20
Kudos: 117





	the years are passing

When Harumi Ichikawa takes a job as the cashier of the Touyo Go Salon, she knows nothing of the game.

She is nineteen and frightfully young, hoping to stave off her mother's dreams of marriage, even if only for a few years. Her uncle, a moderately good amateur and long-time patron of the salon had gotten her an interview after the previous receptionist quit just prior to her wedding.

In her interview Touya Kouyo stands over her, stern and grave in his traditional clothing. She holds her hands together, interlocks her fingers, and prays he won't see them shaking.

"Do you know how to play go?" The man asks, voice deep and serious.

She thinks about lying, but decides against it. "No, sir."

Nodding, he takes a seat and teaches her the rules of the game, clearly and concisely, as he must have to so many others over the years. She is not sure she understands, maybe she's just not smart enough for that, but she listens closely, eyes wide.

Afterwards, he gives her the job.

* * *

Akira is all of seven years old when she begins working at his father's salon, more a porcelain doll than a real child. He sits in the back in his immaculate clothes, playing people eight times his age with a composure no one so young should have. She brings him grape juice boxes instead of tea, even though she knows he wouldn't spill it, even though she has to go special to the store across town to buy them.

Buy them she does, though, because he is adorable and her favorite customer. He's not one of the old sweaty men who stay around until closing time, hoping to ask for her number even though they're older than her father. He doesn't talk down to her or make fun of her or laugh at her blunders. When she brings the juice, he just smiles wide, looking up at her with bright eyes like she hung the moon and the stars.

Sometimes she drives him home in her parents' car after she closes the salon for the night, letting him sit up front and chatter on about go like any other child might talk about TV or video games. He kicks his feet gently against the bottom of the seat, blinding white soles with no signs of scuffing.

Once, when the sunlight is fading and they pass a group of children not much older than him, she asks Akira if he has any friends.

They're at a stoplight and she meets his big, innocent eyes, watching as he nods enthusiastically. "Yes, of course! Daddy and Mommy and Ogata-san and Ashiwara-san." He pauses, looking a tiny bit worried. "And we're friends, too, right?"

If she weren't driving the car, Harumi thinks she would reach over and pull this precious boy into a hug. Instead, she just smiles and assures him they are friends.

Still, after Akira's climbed out of the car that night, she feels a stab of sadness for him, for the little boy adrift in a sea of adults.

* * *

And so the years pass, as years do, and Harumi stays at her job and Akira advances steadily towards the world of the pros.

Two years into her tenure at the salon, Harumi decides to move out of her parents house. She has enough money at this point and is pretty sure she isn't ready just yet to acquiesce to a marriage. She rents an apartment not far from the salon, small, but big enough for her and begins saving money for her own car.

Five years into her job, a boy comes in, a messy, childish boy with athletic clothes and bleached hair who looks like he should be at a skatepark rather than a go salon. She doesn't feel it then, but the whole world shifts.

Harumi watches as Akira changes before her eyes, more than he's changed in the past five years she's known him. Watches as his eyes darken with passion and determination, as he sits stoically in the back of the salon, alone and unreachable. He denies teaching games that he used to take with a smile and accepts his juice with a quiet thank you.

It confuses her at first, because how could Akira, who's been surrounded by the strongest players his entire life, be so consumed with this one person? It's not like it's the first time he's been beaten by anyone, even if it is the first time someone his own age could match him.

It's not until she picks him up from school one day that she begins to understand. He's standing alone, apart from all the other students who giggle and laugh together. Maybe the whole thing with Hikaru Shindou isn't so much about go. Maybe he just wants a friend, someone who enjoys his interests, which are, in truth, a bit odd for a twelve-year-old boy.

She doesn't bring it up with Akira because that wouldn't go over well. Instead, she takes him out for sushi before dropping him off at home, trying to be the friend she once assured him she was.

* * *

Akira is fifteen and Harumi has been working as a cashier for what seems like forever, when Shindou busts back in and turns the salon upside down once again.

He's there now at least once a week, visits beginning with two boys pouring over the board and ending with screams and squawks from both parties. While some of the patrons complain about the noise, Harumi can't bring herself to be mad because Akira has finally found a friend his own age after all these years.

When a particularly loud fight ends with Shindou (purposefully) knocking over Akira's tea and storming out, Harumi grabs a rag to help clean up. Akira takes it from her, beginning to wipe the dark brown liquid from the table, despite her objections.

"Maybe we'll have to switch the both of you back to juice boxes!" Harumi jokes as he finishes cleaning up.

His face is faintly pinkish, his eyes downcast, when he hands the now dirty rag back to her. "I'm really sorry about this Ichikawa-san."

Harumi smiles at him, holding herself back from pinching his cheek. "Don't worry, Akira-kun. I'm just glad you made a friend!"

She touches him lightly on the back, before returning to her station, a smile still etched on her face.

* * *

It's winter and the Tonya parents are away again, which always worries Harumi. She knows Akira is no longer a child, knows he's sixteen and can cook and keep house just fine, but still she can't help but see the seven-year-old he once was. Thus, one Saturday she packs up some food, enough for a few meals, and drives over to the Touya household.

The inside appears dark so, figuring Akira is out, she uses the key Touya Sensei gave her once, just for emergencies. She walks through the entrance way, towards the living room where she can now see a light. Maybe Akira is home, she thinks.

When she enters the living room, the first thing she notices is Akira and Shindou, sitting to the left of a goban, lips pressed together in a kiss. She lets out a squeak which alerts them to her presence and they move back at light speed. For a moment, all three stare at each other, with wide eyes and red faces, before Harumi averts her eyes downward.

From this view, she can see the board, the battle between white and black playing out on the old wood. Harumi's no professional, but she's worked for the salon for many years now and knows enough to tell that this was a very good game, a hard fought game, one that would elicit a lot of passion between them. She just would have thought it would be the yelling, insulting, stone throwing type of passion as opposed to _this_.

Finally, realizing that neither of the boys are making any moves, Harumi starts to leave, stammering excuses. "Well, I'll just leave you two there...uh...yes!"

She's halfway down the walk when she hears Akira call for her and turns to see him a few feet away.

Standing on the cement walkway, he looks a combination of too old and too young all mixed together, a bit the little boy she once knew, a bit a man that doesn't exist just yet. His blue eyes are wide and open and the fear in them causes a pang deep in her gut. His hair, for once, is messy, strands flying this way and that.

Harumi takes a deep breath through her mouth and moves towards him, placing the basket she'd completely forgotten about in his hand. "Go inside, Akira-kun. We'll talk later alright? There's food there for you and Shindou-san. "

She meets his eyes like she has so many times over the years and waits for him to nod before turning around and heading for her car, mind churning.

* * *

A few days later, Akira stays at the salon until closing time, offering to help Harumi wash the stones and mugs. It's not the first time he's done it, but it's the first time in several years, since he's been a pro, since Shindou's been around.

While she suspects he wants to talk about what happened, Harumi's just happy for the help and obliges quickly. They work in silence, alternating between washing and drying, the only sounds the clicking of stones and glasses and the running of water. When they finish, she sits down at one of the tables and he takes a seat across from her.

There is silence for a few seconds and Harumi knots her fingers together, waiting for him to speak. When he does, his voice shakes a bit, but it's strong and clear.

"Please don't tell my father, Ichikawa-san."

"Akira-kun," she says, softly, gently. "Of course I wouldn't!" While she might not be too familiar with the workings of _these_ types of relationships, Harumi is pretty certain it's not her place to tell Touya Sensei.

Akira nods, relief in his eyes. "Thank you."

Harumi reaches across the table, taking one of his hands in her own. It's thin and calloused, the hand of a go professional. "For what it's worth, I think he'd be accepting."

She'd thought about this as she'd lied awake the night she'd found Akira and Shindou. Touya Sensei might be strict and traditional, but, above all else, he loves his son and go fiercely. Though different, the elder Touya also knows what it's like to walk an alternative path, making a living playing a board game.

Akira looks down at their entwined hands. "I think Shindou and I need to figure out what's going on between us before we think of telling anyone."

Harumi squeezes his hand. "You'll figure it out, Akira-kun. If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you, okay?"

"Thank you." He pauses, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "Maybe sometime."

It's snowing when they walk out and Harumi offers him a ride home as she has done so many times before. When they arrive at his house, she catches his hand before he leaves. "I'm not surprised it was Shindou-san. He was the only one your age who could ever match you."

Akira flashes her a smile, a real smile, one that seems pretty rare these days.

She watches him go in, as she has a million times over, remembering the little boy with no friends his own age. Shindou might be loud and rambunctious, but she'll be forever grateful to him for drawing Akira out of his shell, for giving him a friend (and maybe something more) who's his own age.

* * *

Harumi has been working for the Touya Go Salon for over a decade when Akira wins his first title. Much to her mother's chagrin, she is still not married, still living alone, still working.

She and the patrons throw him a party, complete with a banner, streamers, and balloons. While they were never this extravagant for Touya Sensei, Akira is different. He's the boy that was there day after day, year after year. They watched him grow up, from a cute elementary schooler to a skinny, nineteen year old titleholder, and look on at him with the pride of parents.

Harumi recruits Shindou to lead Akira to the salon and when the two boys enter, they're greeted with a barrage of screaming, kazoo playing, and confetti. Akira stares around wide-eyed, a smile slowly starting to spread across his face, Shineou's arm around his shoulder.

The next couple of hours are filled with laughing, the old men needling Akira about the game. They'd all pitched in to get a cake for him and Harumi had stopped at the market to pick up the grape juice boxes she hadn't bought in a few years now.

It's around seven at night by the time the patrons start leaving, heading out into the cool night air in chunks. By the time the last man stumbles out, it's approaching eight and Shindou's leaning against their usual table, looking anxious.

"Thank you for this, Ichikawa-san." Akira says with a slight smile.

Harumi pats him on the back. "You're welcome, Akira-kun." She glances back toward Shindou, who yawns and runs his hands through a bowl of stones. "Do you and Shindou-san want to lock up? I've got to get going."

Akira glances over his shoulder at Shindou, who's nodding vigorously and gesturing towards the board in front of him. "If it's not too much trouble."

"Sure, sure! Just no…" she pauses, leaning in. " _You know what_ while I'm gone."

It takes a minute, but Akira's cheeks flush pink once he's gotten the reference. Harumi laughs, giving him a last pat on the back before heading out, wondering how he grew up so fast, how he became this young man with a title and a boyfriend.

From the street below, Harumi can see the lights still on in the salon, like lanterns against the dark night sky. While she still hasn't learned too much about go in all her years working there, she has learned that it can unite people, pushing boundaries and forging relationships that will last far into the future.


End file.
